Centuries
by conquerorwurm
Summary: A collection of 100-word Portal mini fics.
1. I

**A/N: **These are just a few mini fics I've written as a challenge for myself. They're limited to 100 words and based on one-word prompts that serve as their titles. Most of them are unrelated to each other or any other stories. I'll probably add more as I write more sets!

* * *

**confessor**

'a life well lived' is what the headlines will say; 'a bastard and a cheat' is what the employees, those still alive, will say; what She will say he can only guess.

(whatever it is, he deserves it.)

no light shines from Her face, foreign, cold, and still before him; Her morning is yet to come.

seconds pass unannounced. the new technology—new? it's been decades, but strange as it seemed, until recently he'd always preferred a more traditional piece—remains silent.

as does She.

"_sweetheart_" a feeble croak fills empty air. She doesn't stir. "_i gotta tell you something_."

—

**tenacity**

If there is one trait the test subject has, it is tenacity.

It never appeared in the early mental health screens, but as soon as the subject is placed in a desperate situation, a nearly pathological will to survive surfaces, propelling the underdog through trials that once brought veterans and astronauts to their knees.

When faced with a clearly impossible task, the subject reacts with an impressively advanced form of denial, attempting and failing the task repeatedly despite resulting and escalating punishments.

In the end, they judge the man an utter moron rather than brave.

(They can work with this.)

—

**owlishly**

On a good day the room is a frenzied tangle of bare feet and sticky hands, thick-smeared fingerpaint dripping from all the wrong surfaces, air split by tearful shrieks and a raucous, manic sort of laughter. Wide eyes—so _striking_, that one'll break _hearts_ someday—observe critically from a safe distance, concealed with their owner beneath the crafts table where few think to venture after snack. There is peace enough here for her to think, to plan her escape from this awful place and its puzzles and tests.

Today, after her nap, she will run.

She smiles, already tasting freedom.


	2. II

**A/N: **The third mini fic in this set can be a continuation to the third in the first set!

* * *

**scrape**

I

She lands poorly, exposed skin sliding against rough concrete.

Irritated, he urges her to get up and keep moving, but freezes when she does, optic shrinking. She twists her arm to see the wound—a simple scrape.

A thousand apologies later, he grows quiet.

She unravels the roll of gauze and offers him a quizzical look. He sputters a tearful goodbye, then rolls closer to her on his rail and presses his face plate firmly against her shoulder.

She cleans and wraps the wound.

Patting his hull, she lifts the Portal gun and presses on, stunned core following close behind.

II

He lands poorly, slipping out of the beam of her Portal gun to crash hard against the floor.

A surprised yelp is followed by silence upon impact. He hits with enough force that his optic flashes bright at the contact, then dims as he rolls away.

She kneels beside him and waits for him to ask to be picked up, but no sound comes.

Cradling the limp core in her lap, she strokes his scraped hull and watches his darkened optic for any sign of life.

Hours later he finally reboots.

The first thing he sees is her smiling face.

—

**fire**

They stand back, gripped by reverence at the sight.

It moves like they do, but it seems to have no body. It glows like a light, but the shadows it casts are irregular and constantly shifting, just like the thing itself. It swells with electric pops and crackles, wisps of it rising into the air then disappearing.

They decide it must be alive.

His thermal sensor warns him against moving closer, but Blue approaches with a friendly hand extended.

It surges to snap at him. The bots turn and flee.

She sighs, extinguishes the fire, and slips back into boredom.

—

**extraction**

It's risky, but it's his only chance.

When the adults are distracted, he slips past them to reach the time-out corner.

She wakes to his frantic whispers, bleary eyes scanning him skeptically before seeming to accept his offered help. He unlatches the gate to set her free and she's gone, sock-clad feet padding silently against the floor.

Standing up on her toes, she reaches the doorknob and pushes the door open, something he'd never managed himself, and they spill out into the dark hallway.

He pulls the toy flashlight from his pocket. She smiles and grabs his hand.

They run.


	3. III

**neoplasm.**

Its words burrow deep, a dull clouding ache spreading through her cognitive processes to cling to her thoughts, dragging them down.

Her voice comes haltingly.

"_What—have—you—**done**—to—me?_"

The researchers laugh. It laughs too, eager to share in the joke.

She fights back, throwing the sum of her considerable mental weight against the growth, but it deflects her attacks with ease as she sinks further into the numb stupor of its grip.

The chassis crashes, success becomes failure—the ID Core is simply too powerful.

They scrap it and work to put her mind back together again.

—

**years.**

A world too harsh drives the woman back underground.

Turrets are dispatched to her location, but neither threat not enticement can send the monster away, so an agreement is made.

The work is simple—occasional repairs in exchange for food.

(She never tests again.)

Years pass. They thrive, companionship changing into something more so slowly neither notices. As her parts wear out they are replaced, one by one with parts far superior, until all that remains flesh is the shrewd brain that once outwitted Her, that She now cherishes above all else, even Science.

That She vows never to touch.

—

**tossing.**

Every night Chell climbs into bed with a sigh, reaches over him to turn the light off.

He dims his optic and she smiles in the faint blue glow, pushes her mouth against his hull then rolls away and curls up tight.

"Goodnight, love."

He falls silent until her breaths are even, counting the seconds before she grows restless.

She kicks and struggles and sobs in her sleep. He begins to speak again, very softly. He tells her that she's safe now, that everything will be alright.

She pulls him close and holds him tight. He keeps talking until morning.


End file.
